by Lori Devoti
“What kind of spies?” Mel again.
“Owls.”
Another wave of silence.
“When you found Cleo in the hay, an owl flew from the rafters.”
“We startled him,” Kale said.
Mateo moved, I sensed he was smiling although I couldn’t see his expression in the dark. “Yes, but he didn’t fly because he was afraid; he flew because it was his job. He was a lookout, there to let Padia know if Cleo escaped.”
“Let her know . . . ” Mel’s skepticism was palatable.
“I followed the owl, kept him from returning to the camp, then snatched him from the sky. Owls here aren’t used to having to fear other birds . . . ” I sensed the smile again. “He screamed his warning, his message that the nest had been violated.”
“The nest?”
“Cleo’s storage place,” Mateo explained. “He fought to escape, but not for his life . . . to deliver his message. His message, the warning, consumed him. I held him as long as I could, to allow you all to escape, then I released him, followed him back to whoever had planted the mission in his brain.”
“And?”
“The priestess, Thea. She was standing outside the barn with the warriors. He landed on her shoulder . . . .”
“He did?” Kale asked.
“He did,” Mateo spat. “She broke him. His freedom is gone. His mind is gone. He sat on her shoulder for only a second, then flew off again. He seemed lost, searching for something he couldn’t find . . . .”
“Perhaps he was looking for something else,” I offered.
“No, Mateo is right. If she could do what she did to me and Cleo . . . imagine what she could do to a bird,” Kale said, her voice soft but bitter. “She has to be destroyed. We shouldn’t wait. We should find the blade and kill her tonight.”
Kale’s words had been harsh, and understandably so, but I couldn’t give in to the temptation of acting on them. We needed Thea alive long enough to tell us where she had hidden Tess and Andres. I made sure everyone understood that before we set out to capture the priestess.
It was midnight. The moon was no longer full, but there was enough light that I could see the house clearly. We had come through the woods. Our plan was to escape that way too, although escaping really wasn’t part of my personal plan. Tonight I meant to take back my camp, or to lose the battle completely.
This time Jack would have to drag me out of the fight; I wouldn’t let him reason me out of it again.
Bubbe had got us this far. She’d walked ahead of the group, checking for wards. She hadn’t found any new ones, which meant either our visit wasn’t expected or Padia was depending on her alternative alarm—the owls.
Mateo had taken care of them. Despite the foggy state he claimed they had been reduced to, the sight of the condor had roused three from their perches. He’d run them off, then circled the area. With the disappearance of the owls and the appearance of the giant condor, silence had settled over the woods.
Not even a tree frog or a cicada hazarded a sound.
Or maybe it was Jack keeping the forest quiet. He roamed the woods in his animal form, searching for any other sign things weren’t normal in the trees.
The rest of the group had been assigned watch points too. Cleo and Kale took the barn where many of the warriors would be bedded down. Mel and Bern held positions at the front and back of the house. Lao had the driveway. And I had the house itself, the inside where Padia/Thea slept.
My fingers tingled as I strung the rope I meant to bind her with from my hand to the underside of my elbow and back up, forming an easy-to-manage loop. I was antsy, but controlled. I had to be . . . head, not heart tonight.
As I pulled the rope off my arm and hooked it to my belt, my hand brushed over my new art—not tattoos, no time for that—drawings compliments of Mel and a Sharpie marker: the praying mantis for patience and focus; the dog for his ability to read humans, to anticipate our next most likely move; the leopard for stealth; and the meerkat. I had to question Mel about that one.
“Snake charmers,” she replied. “To help evade her efforts to charm you.”
There were others after that, but I quit asking. I didn’t need to know the reasons for the art, just trust that Mel’s artisan skills would enhance my powers.
And I did trust her. Maybe that wasn’t using my head, but I was an Amazon. I had to go with my heart some.
Once we were past the trees and the yard, Mel was in charge of checking the house for any last wards. I waited for her to make the circuit. After her nod, I approached the house.
I knew where I was headed. There was a window over the kitchen sink. It was small and higher off the ground than the other windows, but still within my reach if I jumped. It was also the opening farthest from any sleeping Amazons.
I jumped and grabbed the sill, then pulled myself up until my elbows balanced on the tiny ledge. Finally with one hand I shoved the window open. Another reason I picked this window; I knew it was never locked.
Amazons were lazy about locks anyway. Who needed them when you had wards? Wards were more dependable, at least at stopping humans. Obviously not at stopping a high priestess, but until now we hadn’t realized one of our own could be a threat.
That was something Padia should have realized, but then, she’d had her owls to alert her as well. Too bad for her we’d had a way to combat that security measure as well.
Feeling satisfied that, so far, my invasion was going well, I belly crawled through the window.
The sink area was clean—Lao would be pleased. Using my arm strength to keep from falling, I slid over the sink. At the edge of the counter I paused, considering the best way out of the awkward position. Deciding there was no way except forward, I used the counter lip for leverage, pulled a bit more of my body into the room, then walked my hands down the lower cabinet until my palms hit the floor. From there it was one easy handstand and a flip up onto my feet.
My shoes landed harder than I had planned. I froze and waited to be surrounded.
But there was no response. No sound. No movement. Nothing.
The kitchen was dark. The house was dark. The farmhouse didn’t even have most of the stray lights I’d seen at Mel’s in the past . . . digital clocks and flashing answering machine lights. There were clocks on the oven and microwave, but the light on the stove had been broken when we got the thing and the microwave stayed unplugged more often than not to allow some other appliance a shot at the outlet.
Tonight must have been one of those nights because the only thing clearly visible in the room was the window I’d crept through and the moonlight beyond it.
I turned away from that small amount of light and let my eyes adjust to the dark. Then I headed to the high priestess’s room. Outside the room I’d called my own for a decade, I paused. I’d planned on going up the stairs to the room I’d assigned Thea when she arrived at camp, but with my room empty, would she have moved in? The room was bigger and furnished better than any of the other bedrooms.
Of course she would have.
I reached for my belt, for another unAmazonlike tool that Jack had supplied—chloroform. We’d argued about it. I’d insisted I could subdue the priestess myself; I’d looked forward to that, knocking her out with a well-placed and planned blow to the temple. But the others had reminded me that I’d agreed to change things, to do the unexpected.
Chloroform would certainly be that.
So Jack had disappeared for an hour and come back with a bottle. I didn’t know where he got it and I didn’t care.
Lao had soaked the rag and placed it in a plastic Baggie. That felt strange too, standing there in the dark, reaching for a Baggie someone might use to store a peanut butter sandwich.
But I did it. This wasn’t about me and my pride, this was about saving the tribe.
With the cloth in my hand, I turned the knob. The door swung open noiselessly.
I stepped inside.
The room was darker than even the hall
had been. Someone had pulled the curtains, so no moonlight found its way inside. And, like the kitchen, there was no clock, nothing to provide even minimal light.
But I knew the room like my own heart.
I moved without pause to the bed and the head that rested on the pillow.
She didn’t wake, not until I had the cloth pressed to her face.
She tried to get up, tried to lift her body to a sitting position, but I slipped my leg over her, straddling her and pinning her arms to her sides. She kicked out her leg and bucked her hips, trying to throw me off.
It was tempting to drop the plan then, to punch her instead, but remembering my commitment, I concentrated on holding her down and keeping the cloth over her nose and mouth, just as Jack had told me.
It worked. With only a few more bucks of her body, she fell still and her head slipped to the side.
It was horribly, disappointingly easy. I muttered the complaint under my breath, then heaved her body onto my shoulder and followed through with the rest of our plan. I opened the bedroom window and tossed her onto the dirt below.
She landed with a rewarding thump.
After closing the window behind me, I picked her back up and jogged to the woods.
We had Thea. Now to force her to talk.
Chapter 25
We trailed through the woods, moving as quickly as we could. Jack and Mateo stayed behind, watching, ready to warn us if the Amazons stirred.
In the woods I dropped the priestess back on the ground and unwound the rope I’d brought. I hadn’t needed it at the camp, but I needed her tied up before she awoke.
We had her mind powers to deal with too, but I was trusting Bubbe and Mel to handle that.
As I bent to wrap the rope around Thea’s hands, she didn’t move. Her fingers were limp . . . and bare . . . no ring.
A moment of foreboding stopped me. I quickly wrapped the rope around her wrists, then grabbed her by her hands and jerked her body forward, into a sliver of moonlight that leaked through the trees.
I stared down into a face I knew well, a face I had for a while trusted . . . Areto.
With a curse, I took a step back toward the camp. Mel stepped out of the woods in front of me.
“It isn’t Thea; it’s Areto.” I was too angry with myself to say more. I tried to shove past my friend.
She stopped me with her staff. “You can’t go back. We took our shot and missed; there’s no reloading this round. We will have to wait for another.”
I kept walking. This time Jack stopped me. He was fully human and fully naked.
I growled and shoved against his chest. He wrapped his hands around my wrists.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ending this.” I twisted my wrists, pulled them free of his grasp.
He pivoted on one foot and grabbed me by the upper arm as I moved past him. “You’re not thinking—”
I jerked my arm free and swung at the same time. “Thinking didn’t work. Using my head instead of my heart didn’t work. I got the wrong Amazon. I’m going back for the right one.”
My fist missed him, but I accomplished my goal. He let go. I lengthened my stride, let my legs devour the ground beneath me.
Anger that I’d kept hidden even from myself was racing through me. I’d trusted in the others’ plan and it had failed. Now I was going to do things my way, even if it meant breaking the house down board by board.
“She isn’t there.” Mel’s voice carried. My anger carried me two more steps.
“She hasn’t slept there since you left.”
I stopped and forced a breath into my lungs, forced myself to calm enough to comprehend what she was saying.
“How do you know?”
“Areto. She’s awake and she isn’t fighting. I think she’s happy we have her.”
“She could be lying.”
“Could be. Or could be she’s realized she’s been lied to by someone else.”
I knew Areto. I had trusted Areto. Did I now?
I stared into the darkness, not sure what to do or who to believe.
“She said something else, something I think you are going to want to hear.”
“What?” I called, but Mel, damn her, didn’t answer. She had already walked away.
Annoyed that I’d lost the head of steam that had been propelling me back to the camp, I muttered a curse for my friend, then trudged back to where I had left Areto.
She was sitting up. Her hands were still bound and Bern stood beside, her a sword pointed at the other warrior’s throat.
I nodded at Bern, letting her know I appreciated her vigilance.
“Where is Thea?” I asked Areto.
She didn’t look at me, didn’t look at any of us.
“Thea lied to us,” Areto said. “I followed her because I believed her lies.” She twisted her head then and looked me in the eyes. “I don’t any longer.”
I inclined my head, but only slightly. The warrior had told me that Cleo had been hidden in the barn. That bought her a small amount of respect, but not trust, not yet.
And respect didn’t mean I wouldn’t kill her.
But she knew that.
“Tell me,” I said.
She didn’t ask to be released, to have her bonds loosened, or even to have Bern lower her blade, she just talked. My respect grew a bit more.
“She worships in the day. Makes us worship then too . . . when warriors should be practicing, hearth-keepers working, and artisans creating. It isn’t natural.”
I didn’t interrupt her or enlighten her as to why that was.
“She brings humans into the camp.”
“The cable men,” I replied, to encourage her.
“And the women.”
I paused. “The birders,” I murmured.
“The birders.” She shifted her attention to Bern for a second. There was an apology in her eyes.
The dark-skinned warrior didn’t acknowledge it, but I saw her blade waver.
Areto swallowed. She whispered the next words, so soft at first I thought I’d heard them wrong . . . believed I had to have heard them wrong. “They worship with us.”
My shock must have shown.
She pulled her elbows in toward her body, as if she wanted to pull back inside herself, contract with . . . shame . . . or anger? I wasn’t sure which. I knew I would have felt both. Shame that I’d let the priestess lead me so far away from my values, anger that she’d violated my trust.
“What about the three who were killed? Do you know about that?”
She shook her head, but she looked to the side, telling me she knew or suspected something, something she didn’t want to say out loud. “The one . . . that was before any of this . . . while you . . . ” She stopped. “The others, yes. A little . . . ”
I didn’t like her answer, didn’t believe her. “What about Kale? Do you know what happened to her?”
She looked up, her face earnest. “I don’t know the name.”
“The dark-haired warrior who was with me at the camp.”
She licked her lips. “I never saw her before then. There was another one, though.”
“Another one?” I prepared for a shock; I could feel one coming.
“There was another Amazon. She was angry. Thea had already gone to the woods with the two women. Taken them to the obelisk.”
Her eyes shone with outrage; I shared it, but I didn’t acknowledge hers or mine, didn’t give her an out to stop.
Her jaw tensed, and she continued, “This Amazon was looking for someone, a priestess, but not Thea.”
“Padia,” I offered, then to myself, “and she found her.”
“I don’t know, but she told me she was on the high council and ordered me to tell her where Padia was. I told her I’d never heard the name and she said, ‘The priestess, tell me where the priestess is.’ So I sent her into the woods.”
Kale waited to see my reaction. I didn’t give one. She had betrayed Thea to this mystery Am
azon. Did I care? Not a whit.
“After maybe an hour, Thea came back. She had me go with her into the woods. She carried a body back with her.”
A body, and not the birder’s.
“It was the Amazon.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“The barn, under the hay. I think it’s what made Thea think to put Cleo there.”
I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to think. There was a dead Amazon hidden in the barn. Who was she? Fariba or Valasca was my guess—one of the high-council members Kale had named who had supported Padia. They had probably found out she had deserted Artemis and were as outraged as I was.
I wanted to know who this dead Amazon might be, but I wasn’t done with my questions either.
“What about the sheriff. Who called them?” I asked, putting the body to the side for now.
Her chin rose. “I did. Thea thought I was arranging the hay bales, but I went into the woods and saw them. I knew Thea had killed them and the council member too.”
“But you didn’t see Kale?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, but I didn’t stay long. I knew I had to get back to the barn before Thea discovered I was missing. I returned to the house and called, told the police we had trespassers.”
“You didn’t mention Thea.”
Another shake, this one slow, ashamed. “I couldn’t.”
A chance at shedding her sheep’s wool and Areto had balked. Of course, only a sheep would call humans to do what an Amazon should take care of herself.
“And when they arrived, Thea talked to them,” I prompted.
“She did. I think she was worried they’d go in the barn. Hay was still everywhere. She directed them to the obelisk, but I could tell she was angry.”
“Did she suspect you?”
“She trusted me enough to get my help in hiding the Amazon. It would never have occurred to her I’d call about two dead humans. She also didn’t know I’d seen them.”
The muscles in Areto’s neck were tense and her eyes were hard, but the emotion wasn’t directed at me, it was turned inward.
I gave her a moment, realizing I’d misjudged Thea in at least one respect. She hadn’t brought the human authorities to our property. Of course, that was a small issue compared to everything else she had done . . . or was trying to do.